“I do apologise for his manners, but I suppose one must allow a little leeway. He seems very young yet.”
Elinor rose, shaking out her skirts and handing her shawl and gloves to Priscilla. “No need, Sir Caleb. I’m so pleased that our rescue here turned into such a delightful fellow.”
Carrádog stood and leant against her.
“He certainly likes you, my Lady,” Deryn commented. “Perhaps if Sir Caleb showed you to the parlour, this fellow might find other things to do?”
The dog’s look upon hearing that remark was quite pointed.
“Then again,” sighed Deryn.
“Come along, Ma’am,” Caleb extended his arm. “Let’s relieve poor Deryn of his concerns as to your safety.”
“Delighted, sir.” She rested her fingers correctly on his sleeve and looked around. “What a pleasant welcome this hall offers guests.” Her head turned as they strolled across the marble floor. “And the decorative carvings on the staircase are quite magnificent.”
Caleb managed to repress a snort. “Why, thank you. I finished them only yesterday.”
Elinor choked down a laugh. “You aren’t exactly following the rules of a gracious host.”
They walked into the parlour, a spacious room with lots of windows, a big fireplace, and chairs that beckoned one to curl up in them and read for hours.
“I’m not a gracious host. I’m just a man happy to have company for tea.” He smiled at her. “I’m glad you came, Ma’am.”
“As am I, Sir Caleb, but I won’t be if you continue to address me as ‘Ma’am’, since that makes me feel just like my great-aunt Dorothea. And she’s an ancient martinet.” She caught herself up. “Although I love her dearly, of course.”
“I would never imagine otherwise,” said Caleb smoothly, pulling out one of the chairs around the small table, where a very tasty-looking tea was laid out.
Carrádog, in the meantime, settled himself with a muted groan on the rug in front of the fire, clearly satisfied that his people weren’t going anywhere for a while.
“Mrs Deryn thought the teacakes might be the best for today. There is still a bit of a chill in the air after all the rain, so they’re warm.” Deryn removed the cover of a dish, and the scent of the freshly baked treat filled the room.
“Deryn, once again I must declare your wife a mistress of the magic arts.” He glanced at Elinor. “It’s a wonder I’m not too fat to ride a horse, with all her delicious dishes.”
“These look wonderful, Deryn. I know I’m going to enjoy them…if his Lordship leaves me any.”
She grinned at the butler, who unbent enough to grin back.
“I shall pass on the compliments, sir, Lady Elinor. My wife will be most gratified.” He bowed. “Please ring if you need anything, sir. And your maid will be downstairs with us, my Lady, should you require her services during your visit.”
“Of course. Thank you. Be off with you now. We have everything we need, and I’ll wager any sum you name that Mrs Deryn has the kettle on for your tea, as well.” Caleb waved him away.
With another elegant and appropriate bow, the butler left, closing the door behind him.
And they were alone.
*~~*~~*
Elinor’s heart beat a little faster as silence fell, broken only by the crackle of the fire. She cleared her throat. “This is very kind of you, Sir Caleb. I was quite surprised to receive your invitation, to tell the truth.” She reached for the pot and poured herself a cup of tea.
“Why?”
She took a moment to consider her words. “Our meeting was certainly nothing like a formal introduction, was it?”
“I’m not much of a one for formality, in case you hadn’t guessed.”
“Well, your dog certainly isn’t, but I’ve yet to make up my mind about you.”
The words slipped from her mouth without thought, and she felt the colour rise as she realised what she’d said. It would have brought gasps had others been present, she knew.
